#symptom journal

[3ting-this-order-of-fries]

I'm realising how important it is for me to live my life by The Brief.

In short, the brief is the set of changes assigned to me by virtue of my recent diagnosis. It is temporary, but contingent on me making a recovery. Detailed (for myself) under the cut.

There are the dietary:

Nothing spicy

Nothing fried

Nothing fatty

No citrus

No tomatoes

No alliums

No chocolate

No carbonated drinks

No alcohol

No chocolate

No caffeine

And the rest:

No clothes that constrict at the waist

No sitting weird or lying down to eat

No food for 3-4 hours before sleeping

Ideally, sleep with my upper body elevated.

[balaclava-trismegistus]

I'm having a very strange moment of serene clarity unlike anything I've experienced in years. This sometimes happens and I'm not sure why. It seems to, right now, be associated with a sense that I'm in a different place at a different time. Before my defeats. Before everything that has happened. I feel energetic, I feel confident, I feel determined. This is following several flashes of deja vu earlier, along with strange episodes of dizziness. This almost feels like shades of some of my previous religious episodes. Feels a little like mushrooms. Like everything is right. Very very odd.

[insanepsychologist]

Pretty good weekend. Pretty bad symptoms, but I feel like I can handle them right now.

[insanepsychologist]

Bad dreams last night. More pain today. It is what it is.

[insanepsychologist]

Bad dreams last night. More pain today. It is what it is.

[insanepsychologist]

Woke to heart pounding, stomach acid, the horror of being conscious. The negative emotions are all still there, coming along just fine. It's only the good things - pleasure, interest, excitement, hope - that I'm unable to feel.

[insanepsychologist]

Second time in two days, I feel my stomach go bad. I feel my heart start to pound. I feel sweat break out. My body goes into emergency mode. My thoughts plummet.

I'm sick of being sick. I'm so sick of being sick.

[insanepsychologist]

I keep finding things left sitting around by my past self. That stranger, who worried about gaining weight instead of losing it. That stranger who cared so deeply about so many things that now leave me cold. That stranger who had so much energy, so much time, so much emotion to spare. That stranger with near-infinite spoons.

It was a lifetime ago. It was three months ago. These realities can't coexist, but they do.